


A Sick Little Boy

by broccoli



Series: Daddy [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Daddy Kink, Food Poisoning, Infantilism, M/M, Sickness, age-play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:56:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broccoli/pseuds/broccoli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will eats over at Uncle Frederick's and gets food poisoning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This gifset was the inspiration for this fic:http://oldest-friend.tumblr.com/post/83737903372/drmadslecter-will-sleeping

“Aw, pleeeease, Dad? Please let Will stay over, just this once!”

“Matthew,” Dr Chilton reprimanded his boy sternly. “I said no. Anyway, you have swimming practice tomorrow. You missed last week staying over at Uncle Hannibal’s, and I’m not having you miss another week. Now eat your chicken, or I’ll have you over my knee.”

Matty stared morosely at his dinner. Will nudged him and smiled.

“It’s okay, Matty. You can come over to our house to play soon, don’t worry. And maybe Daddy will let you sleep over with us!”

Matty huffed and tried to look as angry as he could, but Will’s sweet nature always won him over. He couldn’t help but return the smile, but turned his head so his mean Daddy couldn’t see.

The boys turned back to their food and tucked in. Chips – a treat for Will – with peas and chicken drumsticks. Uncle Frederick never seemed to care as much about food as his Daddy, Will mused. Daddy always said that what you put into your body was just as important as what you did to it on the outside, and always planned his meals in advance, but when Uncle Frederick went to make dinner, it was more a case of getting out whatever was at the top of the freezer and taking the chicken out of the fridge. Will thought his chicken looked a little pink on the inside, but he didn’t say anything, because Daddy had told him that rudeness was uncivil and incivility was unspeakably ugly. Instead, he decided on something nicer to say.

“This is delicious, Uncle Frederick.”

Dr Chilton snorted into his plate of food. “It’s not quite the finery you’re used to at Hannibal’s house, is it? Frozen peas, chips, and chicken wings. He’d have a heart attack if he knew you were eating this.”

Will didn’t know what to say, so he decided to keep quiet and have a drink - orange squash, another forbidden item. He made sure to be very careful with his cup, using both hands. He had hidden his tippy cup in his rucksack, because he wanted to be a big boy and use a big boy’s cup just like Matty, and because he knew that Uncle Frederick would taunt him about being a baby if he drank from it in front of him. Not used to the cup, he managed to spill some down his chin and on his t-shirt, which drew another snort of derision from his uncle.

“Don’t worry, Will, I do that all the time,” Matty whispered. Will knew he was probably making it up, but it made him feel a little better.

Once dinner was over, there was only half an hour of playtime before Dr Lecter picked Will up. They had done some drawings with Matty’s new set of felt tips, and played with some puzzles. When Hannibal arrived, Uncle Frederick waylaid him for a few minutes to moan about the cost of swimming lessons as the boys put all of Will’s toys and books into his rucksack.

“There you are, Will,” Dr Lecter smiled as Will appeared in the doorway, clutching his bag in his hand. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good as gold – as always, Hannibal,” Dr Chilton sauntered over to ruffle the boy’s head. “Like a lamb.”

“I think it’s time we put you to bed, little one,” Dr Lecter remarked, as Will tried to stifle a yawn. “You look like you’ve had a busy day.”

 

*

 

It was 8.30 the next morning when Hannibal woke up to the sound of a moan of “ _Daddy_ ”. There was an odd smell in the air, of sweat and sweet sickness. The Doctor put on his dressing gown and went to Will’s bedroom. The boy was looking balefully at him. He was stripped down to his boxers and covered in sweat, his pyjamas were on a heap on the floor, and he’d laid a towel between him and the bedsheets. The colour had drained from his cheeks and he looked pale and sickly.

“Daddy,” he whispered. “I don’t feel well.”

In two long strides Dr Lecter was at Will’s side, propping him up and feeling his forehead.

“Shhhh, Daddy’s here now. You’re burning up, Will. Do you feel feverish, or sick?”

“Sick, Daddy,” Will mumbled, hot tears falling down his cheeks. “And hot and cold and… and I need to go toilet.”

“Come on then, darling.” Dr Lecter helped the boy out of bed and down the landing to the bathroom. “Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked. Will shook his head. “Give me a call if you need me, okay? I’ll go and put some clean sheets on your bed.”

Dr Lecter quickly stripped the bed of the sweat-soaked sheets, thankful that he’d kept the plastic bed-wetting sheet on as it had stopped the mattress from getting damp. After changing the bed, he took the wet sheets and the towel down to the washing machine and started a cycle, before fetching a glass of water and some painkillers to take to the boy. He hated to see his little William sick, not being able to help him.

“ _Daddy…_ ” came a plaintive cry from the bathroom.

Dr Lecter poked his head around the bathroom door. Will was crouched by the toilet basin, clutching his stomach and looking very sorry for himself.

“I’ve… I’ve been sick, Daddy,” he said in a small sad voice, looking at his knees.

Dr Lecter knelt down and gave him the glass of water, stroking his curls. He knew Will was terrified of being sick because of the bad memories associated with it. “Swill this around your mouth and spit it out. Now the worst is over, sweetheart. How about a bath? It might help you feel a little better.”

Will nodded, sniffing and wiping away his tears. Dr Lecter turned on the taps, putting some baby bath in with the water and swirling it around. He helped Will out of his underwear and into the bath.  The boy was shivering slightly, and Dr Lecter gently washed his skin with a flannel.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Will whimpered.

“Will, there’s nothing to be sorry for. Lots of children get sick sometimes. We can try and determine the cause, though. Is there anything you think that could have made you sick?”

Will shook his head. “I don’t think so…. Well- ”

“What is it?”

“Well, when I was having dinner over at Uncle Frederick’s, I thought that the chicken was a bit pink, but you said not to be rude, so I didn’t say anything.”

Dr Lecter’s mouth formed into a thin line. “Will, I know I said that rudeness was wrong, but foods like poultry and pork _must_ be properly cooked, and you should always tell a grown-up if you are worried about it.”

“Okay, Daddy. Sorry,” he said again.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” Dr Lecter sighed, kissing the boy on the forehead. “You don’t need to apologise. I’ll have a little talk with Uncle Frederick about this. He should know better. Let’s get you dried off.”

Will stood up and Dr Lecter wrapped a soft white towel around him, lifting him out and holding him close. He led the boy back to his bedroom and got out a pair of blue aeroplane pyjamas from the chest of drawers, before dressing him and tucking him into bed.

“Here, take these pills. They will help to stop the pain a little.”

Will took them gratefully, swallowing them down with the remainder of the water.

“Where’s Winston?” Dr Lecter asked.

It transpired that Winston had been hiding under the bed.

“He probably didn’t want to catch my poorly bug,” Will said with a smile, stroking the soft fur of his favourite toy. Then he frowned. “Perhaps I should let him sleep downstairs so he doesn’t get sick.”

“Don’t worry, Will,” Dr Lecter explained, “you haven’t got a bug, you have food poisoning, which Winston can’t catch. Your body is probably very tired and very dehydrated, though, and we need to get it back to working order. What you need now is lots of rest and lots of little sips of water.”

“Can you read to me until I fall asleep?” Will whispered. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Dr Lecter’s heart filled with love for his beautiful boy. “I won’t leave you, sweetheart. Now, what shall we read?”

“Please can we have Peter Pan, Daddy?” Will asked.

“I’ll go and get it. And I’ll bring the basin – just in case.”

 

*

 

_‘Peter was not with them for the moment, and they felt rather lonely up there by themselves. He could go on so much faster than they that he would suddenly shoot out of sight, to have some adventure in which they had no share. He would come down laughing over something fearfully funny he had been saying to a star, but he had already forgotten what it was, or he would come up with mermaid scales still sticking to him, and yet not be able to say for certain what had been happening. It was really rather irritating to children who had never seen a mermaid._

_‘And if he forgets them so quickly,’ Wendy argued, ‘how can we expect that he will go on remembering us?’_

_Indeed, sometimes when he returned he did not remember them, at least not well-’_

Dr Lecter looked down at the boy in his arms, whose breathing was slow and steady, his mouth slightly open around his pacifier, and his arms wrapped tightly around Winston. He felt Will’s forehead with his hand. It was still hot, but not so much as it was earlier, and his cheeks had a lot more colour. Hopefully the worst of it was over, but he would be taking more frequent trips to the bathroom until it was over. The Doctor considered putting Will back in nappies until he was better, but decided against it. Will would find it uncomfortable and humiliating and a bad mindset wouldn’t help him towards a speedy recovery. He fondly stroked Will’s curls and kissed him on the head. “I would never forget you, my darling boy,” he whispered.

His mind turned back to the causes of Will’s sickness, and very quickly onto Frederick. Will would be asleep for an hour or two, plenty of time to go and pay Dr Chilton a little visit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr Lecter pays a visit to Dr Chilton. Matty eavesdrops and makes some plans of his own.

Dr Lecter pulled his supercharged sedan into Chilton’s driveway as Matty and Frederick were getting out of their car. Matty’s hair was still wet and he had a sports bag slung over his shoulder and was struggling with two bags of groceries in his arms. Dr Chilton had already walked to the front door, talking loudly on a mobile phone.

“Uncle Hannibal!” Matty was always happy to see his Uncle. He liked him – sometimes he could be more caring and understanding than his own Daddy, and never got cross unless it was called for. “Where’s Will?” He asked in a disappointed tone.

Dr Lecter took the grocery bags from Matty and they walked towards the house.

“I came on my own today, I’m afraid. I’m here to see your Father – just briefly.”

“Hannibal- I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” Chilton called, beckoning him over the threshold. “To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“Frederick, I have something I would like to discuss,” Lecter spoke in clipped tones. “Privately, if you would.”

Chilton waved his hand towards Matty dismissively. “Go to your room.”

“But Daddy-”

“What did I just say? Don’t be rude in front of your Uncle. Go to your room this instant.”

Matty huffed and stomped off.

“And close the door behi-”

His words were lost as the door slammed shut.

Dr Chilton rolled his eyes. “He’s been a right terror this morning. Coffee? I’m having one.”

“No, thank you,” Lecter replied politely. “Has he been feeling ill?”

“Hardly. You’d know with that one straight away.” He sighed. “Amateur dramatics at the slightest scratch. I don’t know _where_ he gets it. So, what’s all this about, then?” Chilton asked, busying himself with the coffee machine.

“Matthew might not be unwell, but Will is. What did you feed him last night?”

“Uhhh… let me think. Chicken and chips and peas, if I remember right. Is allergic to something?”

Lecter surveyed the man impassively. “Will has food poisoning. When I asked him about anything odd about the food he recalled that his chicken may not have been properly cooked.” He heard a tiny sound from behind the door, and saw the shadow of two quietly retreating feet.

Chilton shrugged. “Right. Well, Matty and I are just fine. I’ve always said you should toughen that boy up, Hannibal. He’s weak. You’re too gentle with him. If you’d just-”

“Frederick, I have not come here to hear excuses,” Lecter said coldly.

“I fail to see-” Chilton protested.

“I don’t. I hope you understand that illness of this sort can be very debilitating to William’s overall mental health. Vomiting is particularly traumatic to him because of the relation to certain incidents he has experienced. I trust I do not have to expand on the particulars here, Frederick. Occasionally these kinds of illnesses can lead to a relapse, something that I try hard to prevent. And this was certainly very preventable.”

“Oh come on, Hannibal. I think you’re taking this far too seriously. He’ll be fine.”

Dr Lecter’s eyes flashed. “I’m not sure if I’m taking this far enough, Frederick. You don’t seem to understand the depth of responsibility entailed in bringing up these boys.”

“Excuse me?” Chilton turned to face Hannibal, the coffee forgotten.

“And you know what happens when parents don’t take proper care of their children.” Dr Lecter said calmly. “Matthew has told me on more than one occasion of your leaving him at home on his own for several hours at a time, or having to make his own way home from swimming practice.”

“Are you – are you threatening me?”

“I’m just reminding you of your responsibilities. William does love your Matthew. I’m sure he would love it if I took him back with me, indefinitely.”

“Aw, come on Hannibal, play fair now,” Chilton whined, a tinge of desperation in his voice. “I didn’t mean to be so offhand. If it’s punishment you’re after then I’m sure we could sort this out downstairs. I just bought a new crop, you know. Italian leather.”

Dr Lecter’s lip curled. “No, Frederick, because I’m sure you would _like_ that. I’m being entirely serious here. I’m disappointed that you would be so _blas_ _é_ about William’s condition. You made a careless mistake. An apology would, in part, suffice.”

The crop would have to wait for another day, then, Chilton thought gloomily. Pity. He had been looking forward to trying that out. Obviously Dr Lecter was not in the mood for fun. He forced himself to swallow his pride.

“I – _fine._ I’m sorry about the dinner. I should have been more careful. It won’t happen again.”

“It certainly won’t. If William eats over here in the future, _I_ will be providing his food, understood?”

“Yes, Hannibal.” He felt like a naughty child being scolded by a teacher. Why did that man exert so much power over everyone he came into contact with?

“And while I’m here, I would like to date-check the rest of your food, for Matthew’s sake.”

“Are you being serious, Hannibal?”

“Completely serious, Frederick.”

“ _No puedo creerlo,_ ” Chilton muttered under his breath.

When Lecter had gone, he felt a distinct lack of composure. He considered his coffee and decided on a glass of wine instead. _Hang it,_ he thought, _I’ll take the whole bottle_. He settled in front of the television, Matty forgotten. When he woke up he would find Matty curled up on the sofa next to him, watching _Toy Story 2_ with the sound off and the subtitles on, as to not wake him.

 

*

 

Matty knew that it was wrong to listen at doors, particularly when Dr Lecter was one of the parties. He always seemed to know if you’d been snooping. But Daddy had been so mean to him this morning, holding the door of the changing room wide open just as he’d taken off his swimming trunks and smirking when he turned crimson with embarrassment. It was a mean trick. So he decided to stay just for a little bit, just to defy Daddy’s orders.

_“So, what’s all this about, then?”_

_“Matthew might not be unwell, but Will is. What did you feed him last night?”_

_“Uhhh… let me think. Chicken and chips and peas, if I remember right. Is allergic to something?”_

_“Will has food poisoning. When I asked him about anything odd about the food he recalled that his chicken may not have been properly cooked.”_

Matty backed away from the door fast. Will sick? From his daddy’s cooking? He felt very sad. As he traipsed up the stairs to his bedroom, he remembered back to when he had the flu in the spring. It was horrible, and he wasn’t allowed any visitors, but one day a card had arrived in the post from Will. On the front was a drawing of them both having a picnic with sunshine and a rainbow overhead. “ _Get well soon, Matty,_ ” it had said. “ _It is no fun being ill and I miss you lots but when you are better we can go for a picnic just like the picture on the front! Lots of love, Will X X X X X X_ ”.

It gave him an idea. He fetched the drawing he had done the night before with Will and wrote him a get well message on the back. Then he got his rucksack and carefully put the drawing inside, taking care that it didn’t crumple. On a second thought, he put his favourite toy in, as well as his DVD of _Finding Nemo_ , which he knew Will didn’t have. Then he crept down to the garage and got out his bike and helmet.

It wasn’t too far to Uncle Hannibal’s house, only 20 minutes or so. Matty had cycled it before, so he knew the way to go. Daddy forbade cycling on the main roads, though, because it was too dangerous for boys, but it was the only way to get to Uncle Hannibal’s. He was determined: Will was sick and it was his Daddy’s fault, so he would have to risk the danger, or a walloping when he got home.

 

*

 

Getting into Uncle Lecter’s house was easy. He crept round to the back and found the open bathroom window. It was easy to climb from there. His Daddy often said he should have been a monkey instead of a boy, because he could climb up almost anything. He took care not to make too much noise as to not frighten Will. The house smelt of stillness and of sleep, a curious scent that lingers when somebody is ill.

Will was sleeping. Matty stood for a while to watch him. He had never seen Will sick before. He looked smaller, curled up with his arm around Winston and his hand tucked under the pillow. Every so often his mouth tightened around the pacifier in his mouth. Matty thought he looked very peaceful, just like a little baby. He couldn’t help but to place a tiny kiss on Will’s forehead.

Will stirred and opened his eyes.

“Hi, Will,” Matty said.

Will pulled the pacifier out of his mouth. “Hi, Matty.”

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked worriedly.

“A little,” Will replied. “Daddy says I won’t be properly better for a few days yet.”

“I heard your dad talking to my dad about you being sick. I’m sorry my daddy didn’t cook your chicken properly.”

“That’s okay,” Will mumbled.

“I can’t stay long, my Daddy doesn’t know I’m gone, and you should probably be resting. But I brought you some things.” He took out the contents of his rucksack. “This is Tommy,” he said, showing the threadbare cat to Will. “He’s my favourite. And I thought you might like to watch a film when you’re feeling better. And-” he said shyly, “this drawing is for you too. It’s a get well card.”

A tear fell from Will’s eye and trickled down onto the pillow. “Thank you, Matty. You’re the best ever.”

There was a crunch of gravel as Dr Lecter’s car approached the house.

“I’d better go,” Matty said hurriedly. “I’ll see you soon. I hope you get better.”

“Okay,” Will whispered. “Bye, Matty.”

 

*

 

By the time Dr Lecter got upstairs Will had fallen fast asleep again. He checked the basin and was relieved to see that Will hadn’t been sick. He sat on the edge of the bed for a while and stroked the boy’s curls. A battered-looking cat toy was tucked under Will’s arm with Winston. It held Matty’s distinctive scent. When did Will get that? Then he noticed the drawing on the bedside table, propped up against the lamp. It was a picture of Will and Matty as pirates, standing on a ship in the middle of the ocean. Two disproportionately large shark fins stuck out of the water nearby. On the back was written,

 _Dear Will_  
                I am sorry that you are sick. I hope that you get well soon. I no you will because your Daddy loves you very much. I hope you like the film and that Tommy will keep you cumpany. Get well soon,  
LOTS AND LOTS OF LOVE FROM MATTY XXXX

Dr Lecter smiled and put the drawing back on the bedside table. That naughty boy, he shoukd tell Frederick about his stealing over to see Will without asking. But he decided against it. Matthew was always a good boy to his Will. He only had the best intentions in visiting him and giving him the gifts – presumably as a get-well present. Perhaps he’d been a little too curt with Frederick back at the house. Besides, Will would want to see Matthew as soon as he felt better. Perhaps a meal of reparation would be in order – with no poultry in sight.

 

*

 

On Tuesday morning, a letter arrived, addressed to Dr Chilton and Matty. It was an invitation to dine at Dr Lecter’s house on Friday. Chilton was surprised. It usually took a lot longer for Hannibal’s cold shoulder to thaw. He wondered what could have changed his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The spanish in the text (hopefully) reads as "I don't believe this" - many apologies if it is not quite right!

**Author's Note:**

> Quote from 'Peter Pan' by J.M. Barrie


End file.
